


a comprehensive guide to songwriting by bang chan

by dominho



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Denial of Feelings, Heterosexual Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Sexual Confusion, Sexuality Crisis, Walking In On Someone, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24047614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dominho/pseuds/dominho
Summary: "Well," Minho draws out. He brings a rice cake to his mouth, stopping short to continue. "Sounds to me like you might be jealous without realizing it."
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin, Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, friends!! This is going to be on the heavier side of things. Everyone involved, especially Chan, makes extremely questionable choices. Please do be wary of this!!

Chan has always had a sneaking suspicion that he might not be the greatest person. He gets annoyed by little things and his patience runs thinner than he likes to admit. He makes a conscious effort not to show it often outside of rehearsals, especially not in the public eye, but it is true nonetheless. His easygoing, caring image feels like a façade at times, a show he puts on so people like him. The guilt is corrosive, dissolving the edges of his mind while he stares at the most run down portion of his bedroom wall late into the night. 

Chan is _sure_ he is not a good person once Jisung excitedly tells him he is dating Changbin. They are his best friends, so Chan _should_ be happy for them, but the only feeling the announcement evokes is an awful bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Something acrid brews inside him that leaves Chan feeling vile. 

"Are you serious?" Chan blinks at an eager Jisung who is bouncing slightly in his computer chair. He tries to keep his tone as neutral as possible as to not upset Jisung. _A façade_ , Chan thinks. 

Oddly enough, Chan is not even entirely sure why he feels so offput about it. He has endured their poor attempts at flirting with each other and had to hear them gush for months, so the development is not exactly a surprise. Chan probably knew they liked each other before they themselves realized it. And sure, being around them for those moments was a bit weird, but not to this extent. 

Chan is definitely not homophobic either. Both of his best friends _are_ gay, afterall. Not that being friends with them means it is impossible for him to–Whatever. 

"Yeah! I'm–I'm really happy, hyung." Jisung's eyes are so full of fondness and it only makes the feeling worse. "Don't tell the others. Like, I doubt they'll be dicks about it, but I don't know. I'm not sure if we’re ready to tell everyone yet."

Right. In the closet. Chan forgets about that all the time. He just...tries not to think about their sexuality. Jisung and Changbin are his friends. They also happen to be gay, but that doesn’t really matter to him. 

Jisung is happy. That is a good thing, objectively.

"Trust me; I won't be telling anyone," Chan says, patting Jisung's shoulder firmly before spinning in his chair to continue scribbling down lyrics. 

Chan jots down something angry and vile that session. The words speak of betrayal and heartache, both of which feel foreign to him. He promptly crumbles up the sheet of paper and shoves it to the bottom of the waste bin.

Chan is relieved when Jisung says he wants to stay behind at the studio a while longer. He is able to slip out with a muttered goodbye, the excuse of being tired from previous nights of being holed up in there for far too long working in his favor. He arrives home to a quiet dorm as an added bonus.

He heats up a bowl of last night’s dinner and plops down on the couch. 

"So," Changbin draws out, prompting Chan to deflate. "Jisung told you, huh?" 

This again. Chan wants nothing more than to eat his ramen in peace after _just_ getting home from the studio, after _just_ leaving so he could stop thinking about this exact topic. And still, he can see Changbin looming in the doorway through his peripheral. 

"He did." Chan stares at his lap and stirs the broth absentmindedly, trying to drown out his thoughts with the grating sound of his chopsticks scraping against the weathered bottom of the bowl. 

"And you're fine with it, right?" Changbin looks terrified when Chan finally meets his eye. It’s a look on Changbin that Chan has only seen a few times before: Once when their debut as nine was uncertain, once when Changbin told Chan he thought he might like men, and once when they were officially eight.

The guilt catches up with Chan all at once. Sure, he is exhausted and feels _weird_ about them dating, but there is no reason for him to make an ass of himself. Changbin has probably been worried out of his mind for hours. If Chan were a slightly worse person, he could ruin their careers and lives with this information. Changbin and Jisung decided to share something very personal with him, decided to be completely vulnerable in front of him, and Chan is making the whole thing about himself. 

"Oh, Binnie," he sighs with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Chan places his ramen on the table and opens his arms for a hug. Changbin scurries over into them. "Of course I am." 

And Chan thinks he really _could_ be fine with it, if it means seeing the worry on Changbin’s face replaced with genuine happiness. If it means being able to feel Changbin’s strong arms wrap around his body to pacify him. Afterall, Chan always felt that way with him: at peace. Something about Changbin was so calming. Changbin felt like home whenever Chan was lost and he could be fine with anything if it meant holding onto that.

"Thank God," Changbin sighs. “That means a lot, hyung.”

* * *

Chan, as it turns out, is not fine with this. He tried. He really did want to be fine with it, but the pressure in his head builds with every fleeting touch Jisung leaves across Changbin's skin. 

The studio has always been their place to escape everyday stressors, a place to finally fill their lungs with something other than bated breaths. With the two of them giggling and cuddling up to each other, the air feels polluted. Chan is going to slowly suffocate if he has to deal with this for much longer. 

"You guys actually getting work done over there?" There’s a slight edge to Chan’s words despite how lighthearted he attempts to keep them.

Jisung seems to get the message loud and clear. He perks up in his seat, abandoning Changbin's shoulder, and smirks. 

" _I've_ written plenty so far. Changbinnie hyung, on the other hand..." Jisung trails off with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

"Hey! You've been laying on my writing arm for the past hour. How is it _my_ fault?" 

The atmosphere feels a bit better. Chan can almost imagine this is just another day in the studio. He tells himself that this is the three of them together again. He laughs, shaking his head at the couple. 

_Couple_. And just like that, the room feels stuffy again. The word alone makes him feel sick. 

"Just making sure," Chan mumbles.

He returns his attention back to his notebook and one word stands out on the page: _fool._

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chan texts Minho to meet him at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant they frequent to eat tteokbokki the following night. 

“Hey, you.” Chan looks up from the menu and feels himself relax at the sight of Minho hovering over him.

Chan is sure he would have had a meltdown ages ago had it not been for him. Minho has this maturity to him, has more emotional intelligence than anyone Chan has ever met before, despite his tendency to poke fun. Chan feels like a troubled teen in comparison. Minho pays attention to the details. The way Chan walks, the way he speaks, and even the way he eats are enough to clue in Minho on a problem. 

“Minho.” Chan wonders if he sounds as helpless to Minho as he does to himself. “How was your day?"

“Good,” Minho says and Chan can sense the impending _but_ from a mile away. “But I can tell yours wasn't great."

“What are you–”

“Hyung.” He knows there isn’t really any reason to try to deny what Minho is already certain of. “Don’t bullshit me.” His tone isn’t accusatory. It’s the type of lighthearted jab that is only painless coming from someone extremely close. 

Chan slumps down in his seat. He puts on his best pout and blinks up at Minho. With a sigh, he says, “After we eat?”

Minho agrees, but the looming threat of having to talk about his feelings is worse than actually doing it. Chan cracks after four bites.

"Fucking–" Chan lifts his head to direct his gaze from his food to Minho. "I have two friends that started dating, right? And I feel really weird about it for some reason. Like, I should be happy for them, but I can't and I don't know why."

"I mean–" Minho unwraps his chopsticks and clinks the tips together as he eyes the tteokbokki. "Are you worried you're gonna third wheel constantly?"

Chan turns that over as he absentmindedly drags his chopsticks through the sauce. Jisung and Changbin haven't spent any less time with him since they've started dating. He isn't all that concerned about being left out of anything.

"Not really."

"Well," Minho draws out. He brings a rice cake to his mouth, stopping short to continue. "Sounds to me like you might be jealous without realizing it."

"God, no. I'm not gay, Minho." Chan's response is harsh even to his own ears. He cringes, but the wave of nausea doesn't pass.

"Woah, I didn't say that." Minho raises his hands and his eyebrow shoot up his face. "I didn't even know you had gay friends."

Chan leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling. Outing someone is shitty. Outing two of your best friends that are idols is _beyond_ shitty. Chan is reminded that he is not a good person. 

"I'm gonna tell you something and you have to promise you aren't gonna tell anyone." Minho quickly agrees. Chan can't look him in the eye when he says, "Changbin and Jisung are dating."

"Well, damn." The air in the restaurant feels humid, obstructing Chan's breathing. When he musters the courage to look at Minho, his expression is neutral. "That's...a lot. I mean, we're idols. Stressing about it makes sense given the circumstances."

A logical explanation. Being upset about the major risks of Changbin and Jisung dating is perfectly reasonable. They would have to hide it from everyone, including staff and managers, which is near impossible given how often they're breathing down their necks. Then there's the issue of whether or not the members would be okay enough with it to not snitch. Being upset about how potentially damaging to their careers this relationship could be makes sense. 

Yet Chan isn't upset about any of those things. The explanation meant to bring comfort only worsens his unease. 

"You're right," Chan lies. "I think I'm just worried about the group, you know? Especially after everything that's happened."

"Yeah." The sad smile Minho gives him stings. "You're a good leader and an even better person. Don't beat yourself up over it."

The incessant voice in the back of Chan’s mind laughs, _"Ironic, isn't it?"_

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chan cannot stop fixating on Jisung and Changbin. He overanalyzes their every move and the amount of time he spends staring at the back of them is borderline obsessive. Occasionally, he'll catch them in the middle of a moment that feels too intimate for him to witness. They never do anything that isn't discreet. A hand trailing a bit too far up Changbin's thigh is as far as they've pushed the envelope, but each vaguely sexual touch makes Chan burn like he's just seen Jisung bend Changbin over. The heat is hard to place. It's mostly shame, but the beginnings of arousal that settle under his skin when he thinks too hard about what they get up to are difficult to ignore. 

After a couple of weeks of strange semis, Chan knows. He tries his best to ignore the part of his brain that isn't in denial. Paying too much attention to it makes Chan feel like he's suffocating, so he pretends it isn't there. Tonight, while he's on the brink of sleep, it seems insistent on supplying the fuzzy memory of a conversation with Jisung about how _sexuality is, like, a lot more fluid than you might think, man._

Chan draws in a deep breath through his nose. He's way too tired to deal with this shit. Wrapping himself tighter within his blankets, he returns to his attempts at sleeping. 

Something brushes against his arm after a few minutes, but Chan ignores it. He chalks it up to haziness until his bed dips considerably beside him. Startled, Chan's eyes fly open to find a very naked Jisung beside him, jerking his cock with slow, lazy strokes. He turns his head to face Chan with a lopsided smile. Every muscle in Chan's body tenses in a mixture of panic and arousal. 

"Not gonna touch yourself, too?" His smile grows and he huffs out an amused breath through his nose. "Don't be shy _now_. I know you've thought about this." 

And yeah, Chan has. More times than he'd like to admit over the past few weeks. It's so, so fucked up. Jisung is Changbin's and God knows what the repercussions could be, but Chan doesn't have the strength to deny Jisung after the amount of time he has spent thinking about him. Wordlessly, he decides _fuck it_ and shoves his hand down his boxers. 

He finds he's already hard and his cock pulses in his hand once he wraps his fingers around it. Chan hisses, feeling unusually sensitive to the touch. He jacks his cock a few times, but the way his hand trembles makes it impossible to start a consistent rhythm. Frustrated, he fucks into his fist while he watches Jisung instead. 

That seems to nearly do Jisung in. His thighs squeeze together and he sucks in a stuttered breath. For a moment, it's like Jisung is entranced, unable to pull his eyes away from where Chan's cock pushes past his tight ring of fingers. He only looks away to speak again. 

"Please, hyung." Jisung looks up at him with wide, almost troubled eyes. "I'm so close," he whispers, like he can't believe he's going to come already. 

Chan forgoes a verbal response, opting to replace Jisung's hand with his own. The gasp-whine Jisung lets out and the pretty arch of his back into the touch have Chan on edge, too. He fucks up into his own hand sloppily as Jisung grips at his bicep for dear life. Every reaction spurs Chan on until his muscles burn with the speed of his ministrations. 

"Come on." Chan wants this so badly. "Wanna see you come for me."

Jisung's whole face scrunches up and his hand squeezes Chan's arm even harder. 

"Fuck, gonna–"

Right before he spills over Chan's fist, the image suddenly disappears and Jisung is gone, leaving only streaks of light filtered through the drawn curtains. Before Chan can fully register what's happening, he grinds his hips against his pillow and comes in his boxers. The orgasm takes him by surprise, but it's the hardest he's come in a _long_ time. The involuntary twitches build a friction bordering on overstimulation. Part of Chan doesn't want it to stop, not when thoughts of Jisung still plague his cloudy mind, but by how bright it is outside, the others will be awake soon. 

Irritated, Chan changes his boxers and tosses the soiled ones into the wash with his pillowcase and a few other clothes so as to not raise suspicion. When he shuts the machine, he catches his thumb under the lid. He hisses, flapping the offended hand like the pain will somehow be shaken off. Once the pain subsides, Chan assesses the damage and finds a bruise already blooming under his nail. 

* * *

Chan can’t even remember her name. He just had her written off as the trainee that was a little too enthusiastic when she greeted him and was very obviously into him. Chae-something, he thinks. Whatever her name is, Chan’s got her under him. It was almost too easy. She tucked her hair behind her ear, bit the corner of her lip while she waved, and all Chan had to do was smile enough to show off his dimples and ask, “You wanna hang out?” It was a little fucked up, using her to convince himself of something he knows isn’t true, but Chan’s a little fucked up, too. 

God, Chan had missed sex. The heat, the way she trembles when Chan fucks into her _just_ right, the closeness, everything is right. Or, should be. Chan had missed so bad, but now that he’s fucking Chae-whatever, nothing feels right. 

It’s almost stiflingly hot when he kisses her neck, but she likes it so much he doesn’t stop. The way she shakes makes her thighs squeeze a little too tight around him. They’re pressed together so closely that their skin sticks together. None of it is right, but none of it is her fault either. She’s beautiful and pushing what should be all the right buttons. She should be exactly what Chan wants, but he’s painfully aware that she’s not what he needs. 

The reediness of her voice was usually somewhat endearing, but now it’s oppressive. She’s babbling incoherently about how good it feels and how she’s so close and none of it does anything for Chan. Carefully, like it’s for any reason other than to keep her from talking, he slips his thumb between her lips. She sucks on it eagerly and it’s only then that he remembers his injury. With the dull ache pulsing through his finger comes the memory of how he got it, of Jisung. 

She comes around him right at that moment and it must seem like the way she clenches tight is what sends Chan over the edge, too. All he can think about when he fills the condom, though, is how much better it would have been to have Jisung crying out his name instead. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LITTLE WARNING!!!!! There is an extremely brief mention of vomit. It's only a sentence or two, but if that's something that you can't read, please be wary! It starts with "Without desire to...." and ends with "stomach" if you want to ctrl+f past it.

“Come in,” Chan half yells from his blanket cocoon. 

“Felix made food, so I brought you a sample.” Minho says as he sets down a huge plate of food on his bedside table that is definitely three servings past being considered a sample. 

“Thanks.” Minho hums, but makes no move to leave. It’s clear he has more to say. “Is there...something you need?”

“Me?” Minho quirks an eyebrow. “No. Is there something _you_ need, hyung? Because you’ve been in here all week.” Admittedly, Chan has been holed up in his room for most of his time. The only time he leaves is when he has to and he hasn’t spoken much to any of the members. “It’s okay to admit you’re having a hard time. The kids are worried, you know.”

Chan, for the millionth time as of recent, feels like a bit of an ass. The only thing preventing him from feeling like a _complete_ ass is the fact that Chaewon, as he had found out her name was, had no problem with him not wanting anything serious, and the minimal comfort the understanding provided. They were on the same page when it came to the hook up, save for the part where Chan is dealing with a personal crisis that has apparently escalated to the point of being noticeable. 

“I’m sorry.” And Chan knows it’s not enough or an explanation, but it’s all he’s got. Minho blinks a few times, then sighs. He nudges Chan’s leg to make room, then sits at the edge of the bed. 

“It’s hard, right?” Minho’s expression softens and it makes Chan tear up. Blinking rapidly, he nods. “Then say that. I’ll listen, hyung.”

It’s not overly tender or poetic or anything, but it’s Minho and that’s what makes it so hard for Chan not to cry like a baby. He swallows and swallows the lump in his throat until it doesn’t feel like it’s going to burn a hole through it. 

“I know I’ve been distant and I’m sorry for that. I’ve just been dealing with some shit internally that I don’t think I’m ready to talk about yet. I didn’t mean to worry everyone.” Chan unwraps himself and clings to Minho like a koala, resting his head on his shoulder. “Thanks for checking up on me.” 

After mustering the courage to admit to himself what he already knows, maybe he will tell Minho eventually. He hadn’t reacted poorly to learning about Changbin or Jisung, so he’d probably be fine knowing about Chan if he spares him the details. 

“Ah, I _am_ a pretty amazing friend, aren’t I?” In retaliation, Chan squeezes Minho’s entire body as tight as possible and pokes him with his chin. Minho yelps, thrashing helplessly. “Okay, okay! Kidding!”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Chan opens the door to the studio the following day and finds Jisung perched in Changbin's lap. He freezes, eyes trained on the way their lips smack and tongues swirl together. It's so sloppy, wet enough that Chan can see the sheen of spit where they're connected. Jisung makes a noise that's somewhere between a whimper and a moan and Changbin's hips buck up against him in response. Chan feels like he can’t breathe.

He can't look away either.

Jisung kisses with the urgency of someone that has waited far too long to be touched. He doesn't give Changbin time to pull back, just dives in for more, more, more as soon as he fills his lungs with air again. Changbin runs his tongue over Jisung's lips and tugs at his bottom lip until it starts to swell. His choked off sounds don't stop, only growing more needy as Changbin kisses the life out of him. They're so breathless, so messy, but they don't seem to care in the midst of their desperation. 

"Hyung," Jisung breathes against Changbin's spit-slick lips. "Please, hyung."

Chan tries as hard as he can to not get hung up on the fact that Jisung had said something very similar in his dream. 

Changbin reaches between their bodies to press his palm where Jisung is aching. Jisung lets his head tip back and Changbin latches onto the newly exposed skin of his neck. He licks a fat, wet stripe over Jisung’s pulse and it makes him jerk almost violently. 

“Channie hyung will be here soon,” Changbin mutters almost absentmindedly against his skin. Changbin doesn’t miss the way Jisung’s hips stutter and his eyes squeeze shut in response. “Cute.”

And neither does Chan. Watching alone has been bad, but hearing his name, too? It’s like he’s been punched in the gut with how hard it all hits him. Chan can’t remember a time where he’s ever been this hard, especially not this fast, and it’s daunting. Knowing Changbin and Jisung did this to him only makes it that much worse.

Chan shuts the door, making sure to keep the knob turned to prevent the tell-tale click of it closing from bringing any attention to him. He stands, staring at the polished wood for a few minutes before rushing to the nearest bathroom. He pulls out his phone and frantically types out a message in the 3RACHA group chat.

**_CB97:_ ** _I don’t think I can make it to the studio today. I feel pretty sick TT_

Chan pushes his way into the largest stall, shoves his pants and boxers down to his ankles, sits on the toilet, and wraps a hand around his length. He doesn’t waste time teasing or building anything up, opting to methodically jack his cock as quickly as possible. He thinks of what Changbin and Jisung might be doing now. He wonders if Jisung came in his pants, rutting against Changbin’s palm. He wonders if Jisung returned the favor. Shame bubbles low in his gut, but it’s drowned out by how good he feels.

Then he thinks of what Changbin said, how Jisung reacted, and what it all could have meant. He wonders if Jisung might want Chan and what Jisung sounds like when he comes. Then, briefly, what sounds Changbin makes when Jisung touches him. Probably high and a bit nasally like when he doesn’t get his way, or rough and deep like when he’s on stage.

Chan spills into his hand, orgasm taking him by surprise. He barely manages to catch his load in a wad of toilet paper with how badly he’s shaking through it. 

Without desire driving his thoughts and actions, Chan is only left with disgust. The realization that he's attracted to Jisung was already bad enough. Changbin being added to the equation was even worse. When he washes his hands, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, face still flushed, and gags. He rushes back into the stall to empty the contents of his stomach. 

At least his excuse wasn't entirely a lie now. 

  
  


* * *

A few hours later, Chan is in bed and scrolling through his phone in an attempt to get his mind off things. Aside from the occasional post on his feed that reminds him of Jisung or Changbin, it's working pretty well until the yellow light of the living room pours in. 

"Hyung?" That voice. Of course it's Changbin. Chan rolls over to find Jisung is with him. "Are you feeling any better? We missed you today.” Changbin pouts and Chan cannot tear his eyes away from the swell of his bottom lip. _Did it always look so full?_

“Ah, I’m sure you had fun without me,” Chan says and immediately regrets it. "Don't worry about me. I'm sure I'll be fine by morning."

“Yeah, but it would have been better with you there.” Chan isn't sure if he imagines the mischievous lilt to Jisung's voice. He digs his nails into his palm and forces out a laugh.

Now he's got the image of getting both of them off in his head. One of their cocks in each hand and watching them squirm. He'd love to hear more of Jisung little choked off noises, or find out if Changbin sounds as cute as Chan thinks he will. Maybe see if their nipples are as sensitive as most of the girls he's– 

"Well, we'll leave you to rest up. Love you, hyung." Chan barely registers the goodbye and narrowly manages to assure Jisung that he loves him too before they're slipping out of the room. 

With that, Chan decides to call it a night.

Then there’s another dip beside him on the bed and really, he knows what’s going on this time. Still, he decides to play along despite the mild embarrassment. Rolling over, he expects to find Jisung, but is instead met with a smiling Changbin. 

“You have the prettiest lips, you know,” Changbin says absentmindedly, running his thumb over Chan’s bottom lip. “They’re so soft.”

“Yeah?" Chan asks, sliding his gaze down to Changbin's lips. "Yours are pretty, too." 

“I think,” Changbin starts, getting up from his spot beside Chan. Carefully, presses Chan against the bed and straddles him. “I want to feel them some more.”

As soon as the words are spoken, Changbin cups Chan's face between his hands and slots their lips together in a messy kiss. Changbin’s mouth is as pillowy and warm as Chan knew it would be. It’s like he’s kissing for the first time again, all finesse and rational thought gone as soon as Changbin whimpers into his mouth. Chan thinks he could blow his load from kissing Changbin alone, but Changbin seems to have other ideas. He moves to lick and suck at Chan’s neck instead shortly after.

“Changbin,” Chan gasps. 

“Is this okay?” Changbin stops lazily trailing kisses down his neck and Chan almost laughs, but settles for nodding against Changbin's shoulder. “Thank God. I've wanted to do this for so long. I want you so badly, hyung. You have no idea how much I’ve thought about you.”

“Oh, my God,” Chan groans. “You’re unreal.”

Changbin lets out a huff of air through his nose. He sits back, his ass pressing against Chan's half hard cock. It twitches between them when Changbin reaches behind himself to pull his shirt off, then down to tug Chan's off of him. Chan feels a bit embarrassed for once. He's confident in his body and Changbin has seen him shirtless more times than he can count, but it’s so much different now. Before it had been innocent, not a precursor to sex.

“You're so hot,” Changbin mumbles, pressing his lips across Chan's neck once more before moving down to his chest. He pauses, looking up at him through his eyelashes. “Is this still okay?”

“Ah, Changbin,” Chan has half a mind not to flip their positions and move things along already. “Yes, this is fine. Just please don't stop. I'll tell you if I want you to.”

“Okay, hyung.” 

Chan doesn't get any further warning before Changbin's mouth is on his nipple. The feeling is so foreign, but entirely welcome. It's hot and wet and sending waves of pleasure through him each time Changbin's tongue flicks over his skin. Chan has never played with his nipples, never saw a reason to. He always wrote it off as something that was mostly for women, but God was he wrong. Chan can’t reel in any of the pathetic noises he makes at the jolts it sends through his body.

Changbin pulls away and Chan almost asks why he stopped until he feels Changbin shift down his body. He presses a kiss to the middle of Chan's torso, one just above his navel, and another just beside Chan's hip bone. Changbin hooks his fingers under the waistband of Chan's sweatpants and peels them off his legs slowly. Changbin quickly kicks his own pants off until they fall to the floor behind him and they're both in nothing but boxers. 

Changbin lays flat across Chan, holding his top half up with his forearms pressed against the bed. Chan feels Changbin’s cock press against his own and gasps. His hips jerk up involuntarily in search of friction. The slow drag of their lengths together feels better than Chan could have imagined. It's even better when Changbin pants against his neck, breath hitching when Chan digs his fingers into his hip. 

“God,” Chan groans, lifting Changbin's face to kiss him again. 

Changbin hums in approval and starts grinding against Chan properly. Part of Chan wants to strip them of their boxers so he can really feel Changbin, but he doesn't want to interrupt the perfect rhythm Changbin's found. 

“Chan,” Changbin whines into his mouth.

“Shit,” Chan hisses, twitching pathetically. It shouldn't affect him so much, hearing his name from Changbin. Something about how reedy, how desperate it comes out makes him tremble. It’s a nice reminder that Changbin is enjoying this just as much as Chan is. They’re just two people equally as desperate for each other, two people on an even playing field. 

“Good?” Chan nods, his grip on Changbin tightening as he presses their foreheads together. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“So good, baby.” The pet name slips out, but Changbin doesn’t seem to mind, seemingly more focused on the praise. His hips stutter and his muscles clench. Of course Changbin would be into it. He loves being told he did well. “You make me feel so good. Don't stop.”

Chan takes the opportunity to grab Changbin's ass and guide his movements, earning him a small, sweet cry. 

“More,” Changbin pleads, gripping Chan's bicep. “Please, give me more.”

Chan kneads the fleshiest part of his ass and Changbin lets out quiet whimpers. He grinds down against Chan with little finesse, losing himself in the pleasure and it's hotter than it should be. Chan revels in the feeling of being wanted, craved by Changbin so desperately that he’s lost any semblance of control. His skin burns and heat pools in his gut embarrassingly fast.

“You sound so pretty. Look so pretty, too. Gonna make me come at this rate.” And Chan really does mean it. Nothing he has ever experienced has felt this good, this right, and it has him on edge already. 

“Please?” The request leaves Changbin's mouth so quickly, like he needs nothing more than to make Chan fall apart. “Hyung–Chan–please? For me?” 

This time, his dream lets him come. It’s so, so good, like finally scratching an itch after it’s become almost painful. But no matter how much he kids himself, it’s not real. Chan is almost certain the itch will come back much worse once he’s awake. For now, though, Chan lets himself enjoy the fantasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave a comment and thank you so much for reading T______T

**Author's Note:**

> T_____T please do leave comments or yell at me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/minbinville)


End file.
